Going It Alone Poem by Raj Arumugam
Going It Alone
These days I'm going it alone
I'm seated in the train that roars past
concrete and earth and dirt and buildings
and that enters darkness and into light and darkness again.
It is good to go; it does not matter where.
I'm seated on the metal bench in the mall
and there is the Ã
seated inside looking out
through my eyes. There is the world
and the people all around me.
I see me going and coming;
it is good to come - it does not matter to what.
My hands are in my pockets
and the hat over my head
and I'm walking on the road that
plunges down from the station
and stretches out long and far inviting
those with time to go on for as much as they can.
It is good to go wherever you can;
and it is good to come however you want.
Untidy and unshaven most days,
neat and presentable on good days.
I am at the coffee stall
and the man on the opposite side
stares back at me.
It seems to me many such men
walk the streets.
There are moments
when it's like being a marsupial in a daze;
a creature preyed on
by a poison-spewing predator.
The feeling is there between the chest and abdomen
a weight that pulls the mass in
and sinks beating its wings.
Fear seizes
and the victim freezes.
(from The Migrant - notes of a newcomer (February 1997- July 1998))
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 9:43:13 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I was going to copy the whole end of the poem here but you know what it says. I do like that; the rest of the poem is breezy, unaffected, and I adore the repetition of such lines as, 'it is good to go; it does not matter where, ' and 'it is good to come - it does not matter to what.' Such lines make the reader come to and recollect he is reading about another's journey and following along wherever the other ones goes, in his mind, and then he is immersed again; and the lines about predation, fit so well because, there is always that danger moving our bodies about the world, that we will encounter danger; the dangerous person, the predator. And I love the description of fear; the sensation and what it causes. I like this one of yours very much.